


Never Let Me Go

by Marrilyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Rowena, Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hugging, Hugs, Loving Rowena, POV Second Person, Pet Names, Protective Rowena, Reader Needs a Hug, Romance, Rowena Gives a Hug, Rowena Is Having None Of Your Shit, Rowena Is a Sweetheart, Rowena Smiles, Smile, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 05:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10610550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Sam and Dean rescue reader from the British Men of Letters, and she asks them to call Rowena for her.





	

Rowena stormed in like she owned the place, slamming the door behind her with all the strength her tiny body possessed and walking over to the two very unnerved brothers. She shot them a look that threatened bloody murder, and there was no doubt she was more than willing to commit it, right then and there, without blinking an eye.

“What in hell happened?” she demanded, her tone sharp and curt, straight to the point.

“Hello to you, too,” Dean greeted sarcastically.

“Don’t be a smartass, Winchester. I’m not in the mood,” she snapped.

“The British Men of Letters,” Sam said, an awkward smile adorning his mouth. “They captured her.”

Rowena shot him an incredulous look. “And ye just let them torture her?”

The threat was clear in her tone; if they were to say one wrong word, she would have made sure they regretted it. Rowena was a cute, small creature, but the power she held was great. Not many would dare cross her. Sam and Dean may have been great hunters; they may have outsmarted her a few times, but if they got the one thing in life that made her truly happy hurt, there would be hell to pay.

“We _saved_ her!” Dean protested.

Sam, ever the calm and collected one, went on to explain. “We stumbled upon them by accident. If we’d been late for just a moment…”

“Don’t ye dare say it!” Rowena said, putting up a forefinger in warning. She’d heard enough of their nonsense. “Where is she? I wanna see her.”

“In the lounge,” the younger Winchester said, motioning for Rowena to follow him. “She asked for you.”

Of bloody course you did. Who else would you ask for? Rowena was the only family you had, the only person in the world who had never let you down. That was why you begged them to call her the moment they asked whether there was anything they could do for you.

“Cas healed her,” Dean added, seeing the absolutely pissed off look on the witch’s face. “She’s fine.”

“Those brutes tortured her,” she stated, glaring daggers at him. “I doubt she’s _fine.”_

Dean huffed in annoyance. “Look, we got her out. Even killed the Brits that took her.”

“Want a gold star for yer efforts?”

“What else did you expect us to do?”

“How about not puttin’ her in danger in the first place?” Rowena exclaimed, clenching her fists in rage. “From what I hear, they’re yer new pals!”

“It's… complicated,” Sam said.

“And where the hell were you?” Dean inquired. “She’s your girlfriend. If you’re so damn protective, why’d you let her run around those James Bond wannabes? Put a leash on her and problem solved!”

Rowena scowled at him, pointing a finger directly in his face. “Ye don’t wanna piss me off!”

“Seems to me you’re already pissed off!”

“Wiseass, aren’t ye?” she hissed, getting in his face. “Better watch that pretty tongue of yers. It’d be a shame if it fell off.”

“Let’s all just calm down,” Sam reasoned, looking between his brother and the very enraged witch. “Rowena, you’re here for Y/N. Dean, stop antagonizing her.”

“Fine,” Dean gave in, his narrowed eyes following Rowena as she backed away from him.

“Give us privacy,” she ordered before entering the lounge, where the first sight that greeted her was you curled up on the old, worn out couch, wrapped in a blanket.

The sound of the door creeping open made you look up. The moment your eyes connected with hers, she ran over to you, seating herself next to you and pulling you into a loving hug.

“Rowena,” you whimpered, unable to stop the rush of tears that spilled down your cheeks.

Your heart swelled with joy at her presence, and for a moment, for a teeny-tiny moment all your fears were gone. Sam and Dean could protect you, alright, but in the end, they were only human. Rowena, on the other hand, was one of the most powerful witches alive. She also happened to be in love with you, and that made her very protective.

Hell hath no fury like Rowena MacLeod scorned.

If the people that had tortured you happened to still be alive, Rowena would have made sure they wouldn’t stay that way for much longer.

Rowena wasn’t one to trust, and especially love, easily, but once she did, she gave it her all. And if someone had tried to take the subject of her affection from her, or even harm it, she could get vicious – and heavens know she could pull vicious more than well.

“I’m here, darlin’,” she said, her voice a sweet whisper you’d been yearning to hear. “It’s alright. I got ye.”

You nestled into her chest, feeling safe in the warmth of her tiny body. Her hand was rubbing soft, soothing circles up and down your back, and you found yourself relaxing under the softness of her touch.

“Where were you, Rowena?” you said as a new batch of tears fell down your reddened cheeks.

She was supposed to be there. She was supposed to have your back and protect you, like she’d promised all those months ago when you first got together. She was supposed to cast one of her overly complicated spells that you still, after months of studying under the greatest witch you’d ever met, haven’t managed to master, and rescue you from the cruelty the British Men of Letters had inflicted on you.

It was supposed to be _her._ Not Sam and Dean. Not anyone else.

_Her._

You didn’t have to look at her face to know guilt had overridden her expressions. She swallowed before taking a deep breath, her grip on you protectively tightening.

“I… I was busy,” she replied, her voice breaking after each word. “Wanted to get ye a wee gift.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a gold pentagram keyring. “I know you’ve been wantin’ this. Thought I’d surprise ye.”

You pulled back, taking the keyring into your hands to examine it. You smiled at the shimmering gold, loving the feel of it beneath your fingers. It was the very object you’d been admiring for weeks; every time you’d pass by that store, you’d stop to feast your eyes upon that little beauty.

A pang of guilt shot through your heart. You shouldn’t have gotten mad at Rowena. She hadn’t done anything wrong; she hadn’t done anything to warrant your anger.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pressing the keyring against your heart. You would cherish it for as long as you lived; that was her gift to you, and you intended to make sure to never lose sight of it.

She sent you one of her adorable little smiles that always made you melt. When she wasn’t busy being a nasty bitch, she could be the cutest sweetheart you could ever meet. “Ye’re welcome.” Then, as her face grew serious, she added: “I should’ve been there.”

“You’re here now, sweetheart,” you told her. If anything, it was you who bore all the blame for what had happened. If you hadn’t been so foolish as to let your guard down, the Brits would have never managed to sneak up on you.

Rowena had taught you to always be careful; you never knew where you could stumble upon a hunter and get in trouble. And with the British Men of Letters running around and killing everyone who wasn’t human for the awful sin of breathing, you should have known better than to walk around without a care in the world.

You pressed your forehead to hers, drowning in the feel of her soft skin against yours. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Don’t say that.” Her fingers tenderly locked with yours. “When we get back to the hotel, I’m gettin’ ye a Resurrection Seal of yer own. It’s long overdue.”

“Okay,” you agreed. You’ve been meaning to ask her for one for months, but something had always managed to get in the way. “Will it bring me back from any kind of death?”

She nodded. “Sans decapitation.”

That was comforting. It’s not like you were planning on getting your head cut off anytime soon. The hunters, though, may have other ideas, but considering decapitation wasn’t their usual method of killing witches, you considered yourself quite safe.

“And witch killing bullets?”

“I don’t know about those,” Rowena replied. “It’s best to avoid them if possible.”

“Oh, I will. I don’t plan on dropping dead anytime soon. Thank you, Wena.” You smiled as your nickname for her slipped your lips. Everyone mostly used her full name; you thought it repetitive so, wanting to call her something cute and unique, you shortened it.

She didn’t have any objections. In fact, she appeared to have liked the little pet name you’d given her.

“Y/N…” she said suddenly, her voice growing serious. “What’d they do to ye?”

You turned your head away. Why did she want to know, and now of all times? “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“I understand,” she said, shooting you a look full of sympathy. “Dumb and Dumber over there said some things and I just…”

“Please, don’t,” you begged her, new tears welling up in your swelled up eyes. You understood that she was worried, but you didn’t want to go through the trauma of what had happened again. Once was more than enough. You didn’t think you could handle replaying the memories in your head, going back to that place of fear and torment that you wished to leave behind for all eternity.

“Alright,” she said, tucking a stray lock of hair out of your face before resting her palm against your cheek in a soft caress. “Let me just ask. Did they, ye know…”

“No!” you exclaimed rapidly. Hell, no! _“That_ didn’t happen. It’s not what they were after.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief. “What were they after?”

“Witches. All of us. They… they hate us. Wanted me to give you up. I said no.”

“My brave girl,” she cooed sweetly. “Is there anythin’ I can do?”

“Just hold me.”

So she did.

You laid your head on her lap, one of her hands locking with yours while the other caressed your hair. Soon enough you were sound asleep, safe in her warmth, and for a short while, all your worries were gone, replaced by soothing dreams of a better future.

**Author's Note:**

> Tons of thanks to my awesome friend [BewitchedSquirrel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BewitchedSquirrel/) for grammar help!


End file.
